This is an amateur, non-commercial story, which is not produced, approved of, or in any way sponsored by the holders of the trademarks/copyrights from which this work is derived, nor is it intended to infringe on the rights of these holders. And so it goes.


a Real Ghostbusters tale by Jeff Morris

Janine Melnitz screamed.

It was a cry of frustration, long bottled up and finally escaping with explosive release. It was a cry of despair, the only remaining way to express this, the culmination of hopes and wishes never realized. It was a cry of anger and outrage. It shattered the silence of Ghostbuster Central, banging off the musty brick walls and rattling everything it careened into.

Her fists balled as she stared once again at the thing that had pushed her over the line. She'd been here from the very beginning, playing the parts as needed: secretary, nurse, big sister, nuturer, sparring partner, confidente, friend, and possibly more than friend. She'd stood with them time and again, battling the demons, the ghosts, and the other-worldly entities that threatened their world. She was as much a part of the team as any of them, and yet…and yet they had done this…this unspeakable act to her. Not once, not twice, but over and over and over again.

She'd talked, she'd pleaded, she'd teased, she'd all but begged, to no avail. Winston would nod, Ray would promise Scout's Honor, Egon would half-listen, and Peter would just give her a half-wink, teasing her with half-hearted assurances that it would be taken care of. But they kept doing it to her, time and again. Nothing she said or did made a bit of difference. They simply would not grant her this simple request, something so small and simple, yet so seemingly impossible to accomplish.

Janine Melnitz had had enough. It was time to take action--strong, decisive action. She would get her point across to them, once and for all, in a gesture that even they could not ignore.

Her heels clattered against the concrete floor as she headed for the equipment bench, selected one specific item, and went to work, her eyes narrowed over her glasses in grim determination.



Egon, Ray and Peter turned from their lockers toward Winston, who'd just emerged from the bathroom, a puzzled look on his face.

"Anyone know why the toilet seat's fused to the base?"